


After the Fall

by Akiko_Natsuko



Series: Mc76 [7]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Betrayal, Blindness, Caring, Comfort, Coping, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Memories, Promises, Protectiveness, Psychological Trauma, Shock, Survivor Guilt, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-25 02:10:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16652308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akiko_Natsuko/pseuds/Akiko_Natsuko
Summary: In the aftermath of Switzerland, McCree is left to care for Jack. But the former StikeCommander is but a shadow of the man he once was, and the weight of that change might be too much for McCree to bear.





	1. Chapter 1

  

    McCree hesitated for a moment outside the bedroom door, his hand tensing on the doorframe as he listened for any sign of life on the other side. There had been a time when he would breeze inside without the slightest hesitation, voice bright and loud as it had always been. Hell, there had been a time when his place had been in the bed on the other side of the door, and he closed his eyes against the familiar pain and the memories of before.

_“Jesse…” The soft, Midwestern drawl had a smile on his lips even before he’d fully begun to wake, turning towards the warm body pressing into his side, opening bleary eyes as he felt chapped lips against his own and his smile grew as he found Jack staring down at him. This wasn’t Strike Commander Morrison or even Overwatch’s golden boy. This was just Jack, the one who had never entirely left his farming life behind, wearing little more than a too tight plaid shirt that McCree eventually recognised as one of his, warmth pooling in his gut at the sight of his partner wearing his clothes. This was the Jack that only he got to see, and he leant into the kiss, reaching up to tug at golden hair when he felt hands beginning to wander. Not that he really disapproved, but it was a little too early, and he grinned up at the older man to soften the rejection, leaning up to steal another kiss before adding cheerfully._

_“Coffee first.” It was always the same on their rare days off, and predictably Jack grumbled under his breath, trying to deepen the kiss before eventually admitting defeat and allowing Jesse out of bed. Following him like a lost stray through to the kitchen, waiting until Jesse had a coffee in hand before draping himself over the younger man, kissing the side of his neck although always careful not to interfere with McCree’s inhaling of the thick sludge he liked to drink. Jack had learned the hard way that the younger man wasn’t in a forgiving mood this early in the day, especially when his coffee was being threatened._

_“Then bed…yes?” Jack asked hopefully, and McCree couldn’t help but grin at him, loving this side of his partner that only came out in the safety of their rooms, tilting his head to bump their noses together before replying unable to resist teasing him._

_“Maybe.”_

   Those days were long gone though. Switzerland had changed everything, and it had taken everything from them both. _No, not quite everything_ , he amended as he finally summoned the courage to open the door, steps practically silent as he stepped inside. It was plain room, nothing like Jack’s quarters back in Zurich and even McCree’s Blackwatch room had more character than this narrow space, but then the whole house was plain, just a simple, suburban home with nothing to stand out. That was deliberate, hiding them in plain sight from the past that seemed determined not to let them go.

_I won’t let them take this…_

   It was the same thought every morning, the same awareness of the threat that always hung over their heads even a year and a half after the fall of Overwatch and his hand dropped down to his weapon, needing the reassurance that came from the familiar weight. He needed the knowledge that he could protect what he had left, and his eyes softened slightly, fingers still lingering his gun as he turned his gaze to the figure on the bed.

   Jack was still asleep, his instincts dulled after months of this strange, hidden existence and there was that peculiar, suffocating feeling in McCree’s chest again as he inched closer and studied his partner with pained eyes. The once golden locks were beginning to grey around the edges, the once neat military cut now longer than before although McCree did his best to keep it trimmed when he could. And he sighed as he reached out to run his fingers lightly through it, feeling the slight greasiness to it, adding a bath to his list of things to do today. In happier days that sensation would have been enough to rouse the other man with a smile, but today a small frown was working its way onto Jack’s face, his fingers clutching tighter at the covers and McCree sighed before pulling his hand back.

“Up and at them sunshine.” It sounded flat even to his ears, but it doesn’t seem to matter - nothing does these days, and he holds back a sigh as Jack stirs, snapping awake due to the instincts honed over years of fighting. However, unlike before when he would have been bolt upright and searching for the source of the noise, Jack stays where he was, lying on his back and staring blindly up at the ceiling and McCree bites his lip at the sight. The once mesmerising blue is faded, hazy - empty, and it’s so similar to how Jack is nowadays that McCree wants to cry. He has to look away, only to find his attention caught by the scars that marred once-tan skin, they’ve faded, but they’re still stark reminders of what happened and just how close they’d come to losing everything. His expression tightened at the reminder, fingers clenching and unclenching as he fought the urge to reach out and touch, to prove that Jack is still there, and instead he finds his breath catching as Jack tenses, his frown deepening.

_“Jack! JACK!” McCree was beginning to think that it was pointless, that there was nothing left to find and just that thought was enough to nearly send him to his knees. His side was throbbing, and he knows that he has cracked ribs if not worse and he can feel blood trickling from his head. Still, he knew that he was lucky. He’d found so many others who hadn’t been as fortunate, and a small part of him wished that he could have stopped, that he could’ve done something for them even if it was too late. But somewhere in the hell that the headquarters had become was Jack, and he had to find him. He had to get him out of here because there was no way it was a coincidence that an attack like this happened when he was on the base._

_His vision was beginning to blur around the edges, and he had just stumbled over the mangled remains of a security droid when he finally spotted something, the familiar flash of blue making him stumble to a halt, and his heart was in his mouth as he took a shaky step forward. Blue… Jack’s uniform is blue… Jack…_

_“Jack?” He whispered, already knowing there wouldn’t be a response, but the silence fed his panic and jolted him into action, pain pushed aside as he scrambled over the rubble, utterly focused on the flash of blue. Trembling fingers found material, tracing it back towards a large block of the ceiling and his breath caught as he caught a flash of blond hair. Hair that was slowly turning crimson, and for a moment fear froze him in place. Everything was a mess, and from the damage surrounding them, this was the centre of the blast and Jack had been right there in the centre of it._

_A low groan, barely a whisper of sound broke him from his shock, and he gritted his teeth as he made himself move. This was Jack he was talking about. The older man had survived too much to be killed by this. He seized hold of that thought, drawing strength from it as he began to clear away the rubble, panic lending him speed when there were no further sounds from the older man. He’s okay…he’s alive…he can survive this…it became a mantra in the back of his mind, helping to dull the pain from his injuries. Still, he was breathing harshly, vision blurring worse than before when he finally managed to shove the largest piece to the side. “Jack…”_

_His vision wasn’t blurred enough…there was no hiding from the deep lacerations marring his partner’s face, or the deep gash bleeding sluggishly amongst his hair. He knew that there was probably more damage -worse damage, hidden beneath the tattered blue uniform, but he didn't dare to look right now, instead reaching out with trembling hands to try and rouse his partner. “Jack? Come on, open those pretty blue eyes for me partner?”_

_Please…_

_If it hadn’t been for the shallow rise and fall of Jack’s chest, he might have thought that it was too late, but the sight of that was enough for him to keep going. He had to keep blinking keep his vision clear, but finally, after several agonising minutes, he was rewarded with a low groan and a brief glimpse of blue eyes. “That’s it, open those beautiful eyes for me.”_

_“Jesse…” Jack’s voice was raw and barely audible, but right then it was the most beautiful thing that McCree had heard in his life._

_“Yeah, it’s me,” McCree’s voice wavered, the relief at being recognised warring with concern as he realised that Jack’s gaze had yet to focus on him, and he reached out to gently brush his fingers against a bloodied cheek to draw his attention. “Jack? Can you look at me?” It looked as though the older man was trying to obey, but his eyes never seemed to focus, and after a moment they began to drift shut again, and McCree jolted with panic. “Jack!”_

_“Where…?” Jack mouthed, trailing off with a weak cough that left blood speckling his lips and McCree swallowed at the sight. This was more than he could handle on his own, but who was left for him to reach out to? And who could he trust?_

   A soft noise drew him back to the present, and he sucked in a breath. _Jack is fine, and he survived,_ he reminds himself sternly and feeling a little calmer he turned his attention back to the other man, noting that Jack had rolled onto his side, the frown gone and replaced with the painfully familiar blankness _. He’s alive_ , McCree amended, wondering if he would ever again be able to say that the older man was ‘fine’ and mean it, the weight in his chest increasing again, and he growled under his breath. Why was it getting to him today? This blankness, this quiet it was nothing new - Jack had been like this, an empty shell since that day. With only rare glimpses of something more to suggest that the old Jack still existed somewhere deep inside. It was nothing new, and yet today it felt as though it might just crush him, and his hands curled into fists at his side. _No, I won’t let it…_

“Jack, sweetheart?” He called softly, relieved when his voice came out nearly normal, detecting the slight tensing of the older man’s muscles which meant that he was listening. “Let’s get you up, all right?” As always there was no reply, but some of the tension disappeared, and he took that as permission to continue, pulling back the blankets before gently urging Jack into an upright position. “There we go,” he encouraged, daring to reach up and brush his fingers through the greying hair, before stroking his thumb across a scarred cheek. “Good morning darling,” he whispered, leaning in for a chaste kiss, and feeling something shatter inside at the lack of response, but he pushed through it with the ease of long practice, studying Jack as he pulled back. “Angela’s coming by today, so how about some breakfast? And then I think a bath?”

   He might as well have been talking to himself, but he didn’t care. He had spent long days hidden away in a hospital room talking to Jack as he waited to see if the older man would come back to him, at least now he knew that Jack was alive, and with him. Still, it hurt and for a moment he was glad that Jack couldn’t see him, not wanting to imagine what his expression must be showing. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before plastering his usual grin on his face.

“Scrambled eggs and toast, right? And I’ll even make you some decent coffee…”

***

   McCree watched with anxious eyes as Angela examined Jack, hoping to see the older man push her away or bicker with her as he had in the past. McCree had always had the reputation of being one of the worst patients she’d ever treated, but the former Strike-Commander had a much worse reputation and more than once McCree had been forced to rescue him from the doctor’s less than tender clutches. But now Jack just sat there, still and unresponsive, a marionette in her hands and after a few minutes, he had to turn away, moving into the kitchen, although he kept them both in sight as best as he could. He trusted her, probably the only person left of Overwatch that he felt no hesitation towards, and the only one who knew how to find them, but this was Jack, and the last time he had taken his eyes off the older man he had nearly died.

_“Jack! Please hold on…please…” He knew that he was begging now, but Jack had slipped under once more and nothing McCree did seemed to rouse him, and terror was creeping in. That didn’t slow his reflexes though when he eventually heard movement behind him, and Peacemaker was immediately in his hand and aimed. It took him a moment to recognise Angela through his fear, breathing ragged as he watched her spreading her arms to show that she meant them no harm. He held the gun on her a moment longer as he debated, could he trust her? But he could see nothing but fear and concern in her eyes as her gaze landed on Jack. And he could see cuts and bruises covering her skin, the tears in her uniform and taking a deep breath he lowered his weapon. “Please, help him…”_

“How are you doing?” Angela’s soft voice made him jump, and he flinched violently when her hand brushed his arm, shooting her an apologetic glance when she immediately released him. Then he glanced towards the living room to check on Jack, eyes softening as he found the older man curled into the corner of the couch, the small tabby kitten Jesse had adopted a few weeks ago, curled in his lap, one hand slowly stroking her. Jack. There was still no expression on Jack’s face, no sign that he was aware of what he was doing, or that they were stood there watching him, and he sighed. “Jesse?”

“Never better,” he muttered as he turned back to her.

“Jesse…”

“I…” He swallowed thickly, unable to muster a lie in the face of her worried gaze, and he felt the thin layer of control he was clinging to crack. His hands tightened against the counter as he bowed his head, finally giving voice to the quiet, persistent fear that had been growing stronger and stronger over the past few months. “W-what if he never comes back?” It felt like a foolish question, after all Jack was sat right there in the other room, alive and breathing, but…it wasn’t his Jack, it wasn’t the gruff commander who had seen past the attitude and past, to see who McCree was beneath all that. It was Jack who had seen more than a ragamuffin on his last chance.

Who had fallen in love with him.

“Jesse…” Angela whispered, anguish darkening her eyes, but he could see the flicker of doubt before she managed to clear her expression, drawing herself up to her full height and glaring up at him. “This is Jack we’re talking about. Somehow, someday I’m sure he’ll come back to you.” _He has too_ , she thought silently, glancing at the still form in the living room, unable to imagine any other outcome even as doubt stirred. It had already been months, and yet nothing had changed. His wounds had healed, and his strength had gradually returned, but it was as though everything else that defined him had been destroyed that day and maybe it had. He’d lost his sight, his best friend, Overwatch and so many other things. But…she glanced at McCree; he hadn’t lost everything.

“I know,” McCree murmured, and she blinked, stunned to see the vulnerability and doubt from a moment before was gone, masked once more by his lazy grin and she sighed. She wanted to give him hope, to stop him from giving up on Jack, because she feared what would happen to her old friend if he lost this as well, but she also feared what would become of McCree if this continued. He’d lost a lot that day as well, and it seemed to her that every time she visited he had lost just a little bit more of himself and she glanced back at Jack, knowing that wasn’t what he would want for his partner.

“Jesse…”

“Nothing’s going to change Doc,” McCree cut her off gently, having caught both the shift in her expression and the glance at Jack, his grin wry as he followed her gaze, expression softening as he studied his partner. “I knew what I was getting into when we left the hospital…”

“But…” _How long can you do this?_

“I’m not going to change my mind,” his voice was harder this time, hearing the unspoken question and bristling at it, not wanting to admit that he had asked himself the same thing far too many times over recent weeks. “I can’t…” _I won’t betray him as well._ A small part of him knew that Jack, the old Jack wouldn’t see it that way, but there was no way he could walk away now, and his expression was resolute as he turned back to Angela. “I’ll be here when he comes back, and if he doesn’t, then I’ll still be here…”

_There’s no other choice for me…_

**

   The rest of the afternoon had passed in awkward conversation, and even more awkward silences while they watched over Jack, always searching for some sign that he knew that they were there or some hint that he was still in there. McCree had been able to feel her eyes on him more than once as well, knowing that she was brooding over his earlier words and part of him wished that he hadn’t said anything, but he couldn’t take them back. And he’d been somewhat relieved when Angela had left, although it hadn’t stopped him from holding on a little too long when she had hugged him farewell or from agreeing that she could visit again soon.

   Once the door had closed behind her, silence falling once more, returning the two of them to their own private world, McCree had turned and headed for the couch where the older man was sat. Their kitten had long since fled outside, but Jack’s hand was still moving as though he thought she was still there and McCree sighed at the sight, reaching out to grip it before settling down beside him. “I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, pulling Jack into his side and wrapping an arm around him before pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

_I promise…_

****

   The weight from earlier had returned by evening as he carefully helped get Jack ready for bed, moving through the familiar steps with a pained expression. There had been a time when he had felt awkward doing this, too used to the fiercely independent Strike-commander, but that feeling had long since faded, along with too many things. He’s alive; he’s here, and yet he’s as far away from ever, it hurt to look up into the blank face and empty eyes, and he bit his lip as Angela’s voice echoed in the back of his mind. _How long can you do this_? Gritting his teeth, he shook his head, gently guiding Jack across to the bed. _I can do this as long as necessary, he replied silently, settling his partner on the edge of the bed. I can do this for as long as he needs me. I will do it as long as there is a chance he will come back to me...and longer._

“Goodnight sweetheart,” McCree murmured, leaning forward to kiss Jack softly on the lips, waiting hopefully for a response as he always did. There was nothing, not even a flicker to show that Jack was aware he was there, and McCree felt something shatter in his chest. Only this time he couldn’t push it aside, and it took everything he had to hold himself together long enough to settle the other man on the bed and pull the covers over him. Kissing Jack’s forehead and caressing his cheek even as he felt himself beginning to tremble, eyes stinging as tears threatened to fall, and his voice shook as he added softly. “Sweet dreams, Jack…”

   His voice cracked at the end, and he stumbled away from the bed, suddenly needing to get away even if it was just for a few minutes. Shame mingling in with the pain as he bolted for the door, for once not even looking back at Jack as he slipped out into the hallway, closing the door behind him barely a moment before the dam broke. A heaving sob shook him as his legs buckled beneath him, and he didn’t even try to cushion his fall, huddling against the door as he buried his face against his knees, unable to do anything as one sob became another and another. Tears streaked down his cheeks as he bit his lip, trying to hold back any noises, not wanting to worry Jack. That thought sending a fresh pang of grief through him, because in the past the older man would have been there, arms around him, voice warm in his ear. But now there was more than a door between them, and as he shook under the force of his emotions, he couldn’t help but wonder what he was fighting for anymore.

_Jack, is there even anything left of the man I knew?_


	2. Chapter 2

Six months later:

   McCree sighed wearily as he stepped back into the house, shoulders bowed in a way that they hadn’t been a few months before and for a wild moment he wondered what would happen if he turned and walked back out the door. It would never happen. The last few months had seemed never-ending, time passing in strange dribs and drabs with nothing really standing out to break the monotony. Jack had grown in strength and begun to move around a little more on his own, but the blank expression never faded, and he had yet to speak outside the nightmares that disturbed his sleep. _Is there anything left of the man I knew?_ The question haunted him more than ever, and he found himself shattering more frequently, but never in front of his partner, and never in front of Angela. Although he was sure that the Doctor could see through his mask, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

   Quietly he closed the door behind him, managing a small smile when their cat appeared with a demanding cry for food. She had grown well over the few months and definitely ruled the house, although she seemed content to spend most of her time with Jack, curled in his lap or around his shoulders, her purr a constant presence in the silence. It was one of the few things that kept him going. Leaning down he gently patted her head before heading to the cupboard for her food, glancing into the living room and blinking as he realised that Jack was stood by the window, dim eyes staring at nothing and his smile faded slightly. _What are you seeing Jack? What are you thinking about?_ He didn’t let himself dwell on those thoughts though, he had spent far too many hours holed up thinking about that, and he knew that there were no answers, not until Jack was ready to give them and instead he busied himself with feeding the cat.

   Still, it didn’t take long, and once her contented purr filled the kitchen, he sighed and headed through to the living room, careful to make enough noise so that he didn’t startle the older man. That had been the one, and only time he’d triggered a proper reaction from Jack, and he never again wanted to see his partner huddling away from him because he had caught him unawares, something akin to fear breaking through the blank expression.

“Jack,” he called softly, not allowing himself to react to the lack of response, gently taking Jack’s hand on tugging on it. “Come on sweetheart, why don’t we sit down for a while?” There was no agreement or disagreement, but Jack let him guide him to the couch and settle him down, and McCree hesitated for a moment before curling up next to him, still holding his hand before reaching up to run his fingers through shaggy, grey hair. “I think you’re going to need a trim soon.”

_“When are you going to cut this mop of yours?” Jack asked, lightly teasing as he tugged at McCree’s hair, making the messy locks worse than ever and the younger man batted halfheartedly at him, before leaning against him with a sigh and a mischievous grin._

_“Depends…won’t you miss it if it’s gone?” He knew that the older man had something of an obsession with playing with his hair, and his grin grew as Jack’s fingers tightened in his hair, barely holding back a soft groan at the sensation, leaning into the contact. “I’ll take that as a yes then…”_

   There had been a time when such memories had hurt, nearly more than he could bear, but now there was a certain numbness when they replayed through his mind, and he closed his eyes, leaning in to press a kiss to Jack’s hair.

   He wasn’t sure how long they’d been sat there like that, but he nearly leapt out of his skin as he felt a gentle touch against his hand and for a moment he just sat there, frozen. Not daring to look, or to hope. But the pressure against his fingers was increasing and finally, he glanced down.

“Jack?” McCree whispered staring down at their hands, breath catching as his eyes confirmed what he’d felt, calloused fingers tentatively curled around his, and he swallowed thickly. “Sweetheart?” He lifted his eyes, studying the scarred face with hopeful eyes, but the blank expression didn’t waver, and yet he couldn’t help but feel that Jack was listening for once, and his expression softened as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to a pale cheek, before leaning their heads together once more as he added softly. “It’s okay, I’ll wait…” For the first time in ages, he felt those words coming easily, honestly and he closed his eyes, fingers tightening around Jack’s as he lifted the older man’s hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it.

_I’ll wait…_

****

   It was nearly a month later that McCree got another sign that Jack was trying to come back to him, the older man grabbing hold of him one evening when he tried to leave after the customary goodnight kiss. There had been desperation in the grip on his arm that had alarmed him, and he had settled on the edge of the bed, doing nothing to disrupt the other’s hold even though it was probably going to leave bruises and instead he reached out to brush his fingers against Jack’s cheek.

“Sweetheart?” He asked softly, feeling the fingers tightening even though there was nothing in his partner’s expression to show that he had heard the question, and he couldn’t quite keep his voice steady as he tried again. “Jack, what’s wrong?” He hated that question, because everything was wrong with this situation, and he had no idea how to fix it. There was no response, and he struggled to hold back a sigh, gently stroking a thumb across his partner’s cheek, tracing the scars. “All right, I’ll stay until you’re asleep,” he added softly. For a moment he thought that something had flickered across the other’s expression, and he felt that his heart might burst out of his chest when Jack gave a tiny, barely visible nod. It was a response. A direct response and he inhaled sharply, leaning in to kiss the older man.

_Thank you…_

****

   McCree still didn’t know why Jack had reached for him that night, but whatever had prompted it, seemed to have been a turning point. It was only little things; tentative fingers curling around his when they held hands, little flickers of emotion breaking up the blank expression although they never lingered long enough for McCree to make sense of them, and he would swear that Jack was actually listening to him now. Not necessarily responding, but listening, and he felt some of the weight lifting, the knowledge that his words were no longer just being swallowed up by the silence helping more than he had ever believed possible. Little things. Baby steps, but each little one helped more than he had ever thought possible, and his smile grew warmer and more sincere, and he could see some of the worry in Angela’s eyes easing when she visited.

  A noise from the living room drew him out of his thoughts, and he hurried to the doorway, reluctant to miss even the slightest sign of Jack coming back to him. His eyes widening when he saw that Jack was on his feet and trying to move across the room towards the kitchen, hands outstretched as he searched for obstacles, and the Cowboy felt his heart leap into his throat as he realised the older man was heading straight towards the coffee table.

“Jack!” McCree shouted in alarm, already knowing that it was too late as he saw the older man stumble over the coffee table and he lunged forward, glad that he hadn’t let his reflexes dull as he managed to catch Jack before he could fall. “Woah there partner!” His heart was hammering in his chest as he steadied them both, hands lingering on Jack’s arms. _He’s safe…he’s safe_ …but beneath the panic, hope was welling up as he couldn’t remember the last time Jack had tried to get somewhere under his own steam. He had been moving more, reaching for things but still relying on McCree to get him around the house. _He’s coming back_ , it was a thought that he hadn’t really let take hold, even with the little signs that the other man was coming back to him, but now…his fingers tightened against Jack, clinging to him, silently pleading with him to come back.

“I can do it…” The hoarse whisper startled him so badly that he released the older man, stepping back, mouth dropping open. If his gaze hadn’t been locked on the scarred face he would have believed it to be nothing more than his imagination, but there was no denying it, Jack had just spoken, and McCree felt his legs trembling, threatening to give way as he tried to get his voice to work.

“Jack…you…”

“Jesse?” Jack sounded different, older…worn, but he was speaking, he knew that McCree was there, and he knew who McCree was. McCree wanted to respond, needed to respond, but his voice wouldn’t work, tears beginning to trickle down his cheeks as he stared at the older man, not sure what to make of the emotions currently whirling around in his chest. “Jesse?!” There was a note of panic, of fear in the hoarse voice now and when Jack reached out blindly, fingers searching for McCree, it jolted the younger man into action, and he managed to move forward, linking their fingers together _. Jack_. The older man jolted at the sudden touch, but he didn’t move away, instead cautiously moving so that they were clinging to each other and McCree couldn’t hold back a small sob at the feel of a calloused thumb running over the back of his hand. “Jesse…?”

“I’m sorry,” McCree whispered, his voice unsteady. “I’m all right…I’m…” He couldn’t hold himself back, not when they had finally got this far, and he moved forward, wrapping Jack up in a tight hug and pressing his face into a broad shoulder. “Jack…” For a moment, the older man stiffened, and McCree felt the tremor that followed, and he bit his lip, preparing to take a step back and release him when warm hands tentatively gripped at his back. “Welcome back…” He knew that he might be premature with those words, but there was nothing else for him to say, not when Jack was actually holding onto him and returning the hug. He blinked a moment later when he felt tears, tears that weren’t his own landing on his head and when he glanced up he was stunned to see that Jack was crying too. Gently he reached up to brush the tears away, even as his own continued to fall, leaning up to kiss the older man, just a light, chaste meeting of their lips as a watery laugh welled up. “Welcome home.”

****

    Angela had nearly broken the door down on her next visit, pushing a startled McCree out of the way as she rushed across to where Jack was sat at the kitchen table nursing a cup of coffee, waiting only long enough to set it aside before wrapping her old friend in a tight hug. Watching them McCree felt terrible for not having told her sooner, but he had wanted to give them both chance to adapt, to wait and see if Jack was really back. There were still moments, days when the blankness returned and nothing he did would elicit a response from the older man, but they were becoming rarer and more spread out, and finally, he had contacted her. A soft smile creeping across his face now as he watched Jack recovering from the surprise and slowly, cautiously returning the hug.

“Jack…” For the first time since the fateful day in Switzerland Angela was crying, still smiling as tears trickled down her cheeks as she pressed a gentle kiss to Jack’s forehead. “You came back. Thank you…thank you…” McCree suddenly felt like he was intruding, and quietly he moved towards the living room, only to freeze when Jack’s voice rang out.

“Jesse?” He sounded stronger, more like himself, although his voice was still hoarse due to the damage caused by the explosion and McCree smiled at the sound.

_He’s coming back._

“You two need to catch up,” he replied, shaking his head when he saw Angela opening her mouth to protest despite the longing in her eyes. He didn’t mind. Jack had lost too much that day, there was no way McCree was going to take anything else from him, and he trusted her with his life - with both of their lives. “I’ll be right next door if you need me.” Jack frowned at that, but after a moment he nodded in agreement, and McCree felt his smile growing. Every little response or sign of emotion was ingrained on his memory, treasured, and he wondered if he would ever be able to take such things for granted as he had back before everything had fallen apart on them. It was enough to make him falter for a moment, just studying the older man and trying to avoid Angela’s knowing look before turning and moving through to the other room.

**

   McCree smiled as he helped Jack get ready for bed, not that it was really necessary anymore as the older man was gradually learning the layout of the room and adapting to navigating without his eyes, but the ritual was reassuring for both of them after all this time. The older man was quiet, but his expression seemed a little lighter than before, and McCree knew that the afternoon with Angela was the reason. He had even heard them bickering at one point, in soft voices, nothing like the heated arguments they’d had back in the day. But it was another glimmer of the old Jack, of the way things had been and McCree hadn’t stopped smiling since, something that Angela had commented on, kissing him softly on the cheek before leaving them in peace.

“Did it help? Speaking to Angela?” He asked softly, well aware that his partner had been a little cautious about seeing his old friend when he had suggested the visit.

“It…I don’t know,” Jack admitted hesitantly, allowing McCree to guide him across to the bed, wrinkling his nose as he tried to find the right words. It was something he still struggled with - expressing himself, and McCree was quickly learning to read what wasn’t said and the light flickers in his expression, but it was a relief to see Jack trying to work it out, even if in the end he finished with a small shrug. “It wasn’t the same.”

“I know,” McCree murmured, settling on the edge beside him. It had taken him a long time to come to terms with the fact that everything had changed, that it wasn’t possible to get back to how things had been, and he winced as he caught the concern that flickered across Jack’s face. Clearly, he wasn’t as in control of his emotions as he’d hoped. “But…”

“It was good to hear her voice again,” Jack admitted softly, a distant look on his face, and McCree scowled as he saw the older man rubbing at his side. The wound that had nearly killed him that day... realising that the last time Jack had spoken to Angela had been that day, his own voice barely a weak thread of sound, while hers had been full of tears as she pleaded with him to hold on. He jolted as Jack’s fingers brushed his cheek, and he turned to look at the older man, not sure what to make of the expression on his face. “I’m glad that you weren’t alone.”

“I was never alone sweetheart,” McCree protested, reaching up to capture the hand against his face, holding it close. There had been times when he had wondered what he was doing and whether he could hold out long enough for the older man to come back, but he had always known that he wasn’t alone, and smiled, bringing Jack’s hand down so that he could kiss. “You were here, and I knew you would be back if I waited long enough.”

“But…”

“Don’t,” McCree cut him off softly. It wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation, and he knew it wouldn’t be the last. Jack was still coming back to himself, still adapting to everything that had changed…been lost…learning what had happened in the time that he had been lost. However, McCree was determined not to let those thoughts take root, and he leant in to kiss the other man. “It’s over, you’re back now, and that’s all I need.” He deepened the kiss, savouring the gentle response, before moving up to kiss Jack on the nose, chuckling as the older man wrinkled his nose at the sensation. It was something he had always done, and the glimpse of the old Jack warmed his heart, and his voice was light as he added. “Goodnight sweetheart.”

   He had just released Jack’s hand and climbed to his feet when the older man reached out, grabbing his wrist before scowling and moving his hand down to twine their fingers together. _Jack_ … McCree’s mouth went dry, his heart humping as it always did these days when Jack was the one to reach for him, and he gently squeezed the other’s fingers.

“Jesse?” There was a hesitancy to Jack’s voice that had never been there before, and McCree frowned, opening his mouth to demand what was wrong, but his partner beat him to it, voice barely above a whisper. “Stay…?”

“Jack…” McCree wanted so badly to say yes, but he hesitated. He had longed to sleep with Jack, to hold him close at night for months, but the separate bedrooms hadn’t just been because of Jack’s condition. The older man wasn’t the only one plagued by nightmares of what had happened, but McCree’s came more frequently and more than once he had lashed out, sending more than one lamp into the bin, and he wasn’t sure that he wanted to expose the older man to that just yet. However, the refusal wouldn’t leave the tip of his tongue, because there was longing in Jack’s expression, the dim eyes fixed on his face as though he could see him. “Are you sure?” The question tiptoed out before he could stop it, but he knew that he had done the right thing when Jack’s shoulders relaxed.

“I’m sure…”

“I…” McCree couldn’t see any hesitation in the scarred face, and he sighed. “All right.”

   His stomach was twisting itself into nervous knots as he moved around getting ready for bed, highly aware of the eyes following him, even if the older man couldn’t actually see him. He was stealing one of Jack’s shirts, not sure that he would have the courage to come back if he went to get something from his own room. He felt like he had their first night together and he grimaced, he knew that nothing was going to happen, neither of them was ready for that. But it did little to settle his nerves, and he found himself clutching at the shirt that hung loosely from his shoulders, trying to gather himself enough to move across to the bed.

“Jesse?”

“Yeah…” He muttered. _Come on, this is Jack…this is Jack_ … That thought calmed him, and he took a deep breath before padding across to the bed, smiling slightly when Jack lifted the covers in invitation, an expectant expression on his face. “All right, all right I can take a hint.”

“Hmm,” Jack hummed, cautiously moving forward to wrap his arms around McCree as soon as he was settled in the bed, leaving the Cowboy to awkwardly yank the covers over him. “I remember it taking you a long time to realise I liked you…” The gentle teasing startled a watery laugh out of McCree, especially when he remembered how irritated the older man had been at his obliviousness. And the way he had eventually given up on hints, instead kissing McCree in front of everyone, just to make sure he got the message.

“I was young and stupid…” He retorted, rolling over so that they were facing one another, heart beginning to hammer in his chest once more. The face in front of him was different than it had been back then. The hair more grey than blond now and the eyes no longer held the mischievous glint he had loved so much, but it was Jack, and his breath caught as he spied the small smile playing on the older man’s lips and he couldn’t help but lean in and kiss him softly. “I love you.” He hadn’t dared say those words for so long, not wanting to put pressure on the older man, scared of what those words might mean if Jack didn’t come back to him, but right now they felt right. Jack had paused for a moment at the soft words, expression open, surprise, grief and slowly hope spreading across his face, a warm smile curving at his lips as he returned the kiss.

“Thank you…” He whispered unsteadily when they broke apart. It wasn’t the same words, but McCree understood anyway. _Thank you for surviving, for staying, and for loving me…I love you too._ And he smiled, his nervousness fading away as he pulled the other man closer, curling around him and relishing the way they fit together as they always had, eyes closing as he pressed another kiss into the grey hair. "

You’re welcome…”

_We didn’t lose everything…_


End file.
